


Back to Busan

by CloudLeopard



Series: Brokeback Bangtan [6]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drug Addiction, M/M, Public Hand Jobs, Sex Addiction, awesome friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 19:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15713808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudLeopard/pseuds/CloudLeopard
Summary: Time skipping five years from the end of part 5.Jimin is heading back to Busan for the first time to reconnect with some old friends.





	Back to Busan

**Author's Note:**

> This part now officially takes this AU over 100k words.  
> This story has gained so much momentum now that I could never have imagined when I first started writing it, and then re-writing it because I'd originally paired Jimin with someone else.  
> I am as ever overwhelmed with all of the comments, kudos and love this is getting, I appreciate it more than I can say.
> 
> For Taeter_Tot, who commented on part 3 with a super cute story after I made you cry, the bit that you inspired and that you've been waiting patiently for is roughly halfway through. I hope it makes you smile as much to read it as it made me smile to write it.

The envelope, when it comes, is unassuming. Well, actually, it’s pretty fancy, but no fancier than Jimin has become used to receiving. These days fancy envelopes and their contents come with monotonous regularity. Invites to events, gallery openings, parties, always someone wanting a piece of him, wanting him to show up at their event, making it special with his presence.

Over the past 5 years he has become very hot property, a celebrity in his own right, lauded and fawned over wherever he goes, he’s a wanted man in the best possible way. Whenever he ventures out from his home he is pointed at, whispers follow him, some braver people approach him, ask for autographs, just a quick sketch, anything and everything. It’s what he’d always dreamed of, and yet, something is missing.

The envelope has a post-it note attached to the front, in Jackson’s neat handwriting, apologising for opening this particular envelope in error. Jimin is curious, Jackson opens all of his post, has done for the last two years when he quit his current job and came to work directly for Jimin. Jackson is literally his right-hand man, he takes care of everything for Jimin, he makes sure his life runs smoothly and that he’s always where he needs to be.

And so he turns the envelope over in his hand, nervous for some reason about the contents, but it’s not what he expects.

Inside is a beautifully handcrafted invitation, inviting him to Namjoon and Seokjin’s wedding, to be held just a few weeks from now. He can see instantly he’s missed the RSVP date, this envelope has clearly been chasing him for a while. It’s hardly surprising, things have changed since he cut the others off. His little studio is now occupied by a younger artist, an up and coming woman, championed by Choi Seunghyun and Jimin where he gets the chance. He loves her work and loves the fact that she paints in the same space that he drew, this would have been the last address that Namjoon and Seokjin had for him.

Now he lives in Gangnam, in one of the most exclusive buildings, his neighbours are actors, singers and celebrities. His apartment is huge, decorated by a professional, kept clean by a very discrete team who only work in this building, anyone wanting to gain access to visit him must get past the 24-hour security in the lobby. His apartment has three bedrooms, one is his, dominated with the most ridiculously sized bed, carpeted with deep and maddeningly soft carpet and with a huge en-suite bathroom, which is probably bigger than the entirety of his first studio. The second bedroom is the spare, also furnished beautifully, used only by Jackson on nights where he’s worked late with Jimin and is too exhausted to travel home. The third is his studio, this bedroom is on the corner of the building, lit on two sides by enormous windows, technically this should be the master bedroom, but the light is too good to be anything other than his studio and from the moment he first walked in, Jimin could imagine himself drawing here. He now has 3 easels set up, capable of holding varying different sizes of canvas, depending on what he’s currently working on. Sometimes all three are occupied with works in progress, his mind flitting between ideas, glad he now has the space to indulge his whims.

The invite from Namjoon and Seokjin has a note too, it’s been five years, yet as soon as he starts reading, Jimin can feel Namjoon bursting off the page as if no time at all has passed, and he smiles as he reads.

 

Dear Jimin,

I hope this letter manages to find you in time, you aren’t an easy man to track down despite your fame. Can I just quickly say how proud Jin and I are that we know you, you are quite insanely talented, and we have one of your smaller pieces hanging in pride of place in our lounge, it’s probably the most valuable thing we own, both in monetary and sentimental terms. It’s a drawing of white blossom on a bluey-grey background, I think from when you were first in Hong Kong, we like to imagine how you were feeling when you drew this because it’s beautiful Jimin, truly.  
As you will see from the invite, I am finally making good on my promise all those years ago when I asked Jin to be my husband. Obviously, we can’t do it for real, this is a not quite wedding because gay marriage isn’t legal in South Korea but we can’t wait because we’ve been together forever and love each other blessing, and we really hope that you can come.  
We understand that you are busy, we don’t even know if you will be in the country, but you were there when we got engaged, and we really want you to be there when we make our vows to each other.  
When you can, please let us know, I’ve left both of our contact details below, we really hope to see you in July.

Love

Namjoon

 

Jimin remembers that drawing, it was inspired by his first Hong Kong trip when he was scouting out the gallery spaces with Jackson, and in a weird twist of fate, it’s one of the three that he’d kidnapped from the exhibition after the gallery owner has been such a dick over the background. He has no idea how, back then, Namjoon and Seokjin were able to buy it, it hadn’t been cheap, and it had been sold in Hong Kong. It makes his heart swell to know that, even after he’d cut them off, that his friends had been thinking about him, supporting him, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to go back.

Namjoon has, of course, gone overboard, there are cell phone numbers for both him and Seokjin, as well as his home number, work numbers, email addresses for the pair of them, and Jimin is spoilt for choice. He reaches for his own phone, deciding to start with Namjoon’s cell phone number, dialling him now before he changes his mind, it doesn’t ring for long,

“Kim Namjoon,” a very familiar voice answers.

For a second, his throat is too dry to speak, memories of Namjoon’s amiable, happy, face and clumsy demeanour swimming across his vision.

“Kim Namjoon?” he questions croakily before clearing his throat, “this is Park Jimin.”

There is a stunned silence at the end of the line before Namjoon splutters out,

“Park Jimin? Jimin? Holy shit, it’s really you?”

Jimin grins and relaxes slightly into his chair,

“hey Joon, yep, really me.”

“Oh my holy fuck,” Namjoon gasps, “hang on, let me go outside, I’m getting glared at, don’t hang up, please.”

“I won’t,” Jimin assures him, waiting for Namjoon to talk again.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m so sorry, I was in a meeting,” Namjoon gabbles out.

Jimin blinks, forgetting it was in the middle of most people’s working day, “oh, shit sorry Namjoon, I can ring back later?”

“No,” Namjoon bursts out, “it wasn’t that important, please don’t, it’s been too long,” Namjoon ends wistfully.

“Ok,” Jimin agrees quietly, “what have I interrupted?”

“Oh god, don’t make me talk about it,” Namjoon groans theatrically, “it’s so boring.”

Jimin giggles back, feeling like the years have just melted away and they were still the very young men they were when they first met, barely any responsibilities to hold them back.

“Joon, I’m sorry,” Jimin starts, “for a lot of stuff actually, but right now, for the late reply to your invitation, I’ve literally just received it.”

“It’s fine Jimin,” Namjoon tells him seriously, “we didn’t know how best to get it to you, I’m guessing you’re not at the same address?”

“No,” Jimin agrees, “moved about two years ago now, but someone I know lives there now, I’m guessing she passed the letter to Seunghyun, who passed it to Jackson, who passed it to me this morning.”

“Can you make it?” is all Namjoon wants to know.

“But I’ve missed the RSVP,” Jimin tells him, “won’t it mess up all of your planning?”

He may not know much about weddings, but he’s attended a few now and knows the basics of etiquette, one being, don’t RSVP late.

Namjoon groans softly, “Jimin, who gives a fuck about that?” he asks, “we want you there.”

“Ok,” Jimin agrees softly, “I’ll be there.” 

“Really?” Namjoon almost yells out in excitement, “for real? You’ll come? Oh my god, that’s so fucking awesome, Jin is going to fucking explode when I tell him.”

“Ahh you just want me for my celebrity,” Jimin jokes self depreciatingly, but he feels guilty when Namjoon suddenly goes silent.

“Jimin,” he asks urgently, “you know that isn’t true right? We want you there because you are our friend, that is all.”

Jimin has to quickly reassure Namjoon, “yes, I know that, sorry, I was being a dick.”

“Ahh, Jimin, nothing’s changed then?” Namjoon joked back.

“Oi, meanie,” Jimin shot back.

They chat for a few minutes, catching up, Namjoon confirming details for the wedding before he sighs,

“Jimin, I’m really sorry, I’m going to have to go, have to get back to work. I’m so fucking glad you called though, I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me too Joon, I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

As they say their goodbyes Jimin is surprised to feel a bit of a lump in his throat, friendship, real friendship is in short supply these days, reconnecting with Namjoon has been surprisingly wonderful.

 

 

He has just a little under three weeks until Namjoon and Seokjin’s wedding, and he spends that time drawing more frantically than he has in years. His memory sparks with a thousand moments, burned into his brain, suppressed until now, mostly he sketches, no time to do a full drawing for most of them, apart from one. For Namjoon and Seokjin’s wedding present he wants to draw the day Namjoon proposed, with the seven of them in the park, mucking around, hanging out, not realising that for two of their friends, that day would end up being incredibly significant. He has to draw everyone from memory, wracking his brain to remember what everyone was wearing, what their hair looked like, and their smiles. He draws them in the moments after the proposal was announced, everyone smiling, grinning, happy and carefree. He finishes with two days to go, working late into the nights to make sure, making Jackson worry at first, then relax once Jimin explained what he was doing, that he was going home.

Along with the excitement, there is of course trepidation, going home means facing Jungkook again. The intervening years have mellowed that hurt somewhat, tucking his experiences away, sealing them up, understanding it for what it was, a grand love that was ultimately not meant to be. The experience has definitely left its scars, Jimin doesn’t date. He is in no way celibate, plenty of people want a piece of his ass, and he shares it willingly, his body at least. His heart is his alone, barriers erected around it now, not willing to let anyone in the way he once let Jungkook in. He has hundreds of acquaintances, people that he meets up with, hangs out with, has fun with, has sex with, but only two that he trusts with everything. Yoongi has been there since the beginning, he needed Jimin’s help initially, and their friendship grew from there. Yoongi has always challenged Jimin to his limits, and never beyond, he knows he could tell Yoongi anything and things between them would remain the same, that Yoongi has his back in the best possible way. Jackson was more of a surprise, popping into his life with his easy charm and intuition, it wasn’t a difficult decision two years ago when Jackson’s company was restructuring and his job was suddenly in jeopardy to suggest that Jackson come and work exclusively for him. Jackson’s contacts, skills and organisational abilities make him the perfect person to handle all of Jimin’s affairs, both professional and personal. They have joked between them that Jackson is the perfect wife for Jimin, he loves him and more importantly, trusts him completely.

 

 

Early on the morning of the wedding, Jimin gathers everything he needs, things that have been organised by Jackson, for him to easily sweep up. He has one of his nicest summer suits ready to change into once he’s in Busan, a bag with everything that he’ll need for the next few days, the wrapped canvas, a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne and two glasses, and a card. He loads them up into his car, smiling to himself, remembering the old car he had for doing this journey when he was at uni. He loved that car, it represented freedom to him, but this car is something else. High end and kept immaculately, this was definitely a showing off car rather than a road trip car. It works for the road trip too though Jimin finds out, cranking up the sound system, feeling nostalgic, finding cd’s from years ago, playing them, and singing along.

He heads home first, his parents actually coming out of the house to see who had parked on their driveway in such an ostentatious car, Jimin belatedly forgetting that they hadn’t seen this one yet. He dumps his bag in his old room, showering quickly before redressing in his suit. His mum comes and fusses, making sure his perfect tie is straightened in the way only a mother can do. He’ll be back tonight, probably late though, so she reminds him to keep the noise down as if he was still a teenager and not a 28-year-old man.

He makes his way to the wedding venue, greeting people when he arrives, mostly new faces to him, looking subtly for his friends. He spots Yoongi first, smiling easily as he chatted to someone that Jimin suddenly recognises as Hoseok. He looks totally different, gone is the wild hair and casual clothes of their youth, Hoseok looks like a proper grown up, and it makes Jimin smirk as he makes his way over to them.

Yoongi greets him casually, they see each other regularly, after all, this is nothing out of the ordinary for them. Hoseok, for all of his new adult looks, reverts immediately to the Hoseok of old, practically bouncing into Jimin’s arms, hugging him tightly, chiding him for blocking his number, and then hugging him tightly again. They laugh, reminiscing about their dance battles, wondering good-naturedly if they should revive them tonight. Then there is a little sob to his left-hand side, Taehyung, looking devastatingly sexy despite his flushed face and tear-filled eyes,

“oh my god, Jimin?” he whispered, “you’re really here?”

Jimin nodded, not able to trust his own voice for a second.

“Fuck,” Taehyung moaned out, reaching for Jimin just before his sobs burst out of him.

Jimin holds him as he cries, unashamed, unaware of the spectacle he’s creating, or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung finally says when his tears abate, “I don’t know if I want to punch you or never fucking let you go, why did you just disappear on us?” his voice is filled with anguish, Jimin can see his pain etched over his face, and he feels guilty that his breakup with Jungkook had such a devastating impact on others.

“I’m sorry Tae,” he starts, “things were just too much, it was easier that way.”

Taehyung eyed him carefully, “was it?” he asked.

Jimin swallowed hard because it’s not like it had been easy, it had been far from it, and the decisions he’d made immediately afterwards had shaped his last five years. Would it have been easier to stay in touch? He has no way of knowing.

So he shrugged at Taehyung, “fucks knows,” he told him, and Taehyung just hugged him again.

“Jesus,” he grumbled eventually, “you’re bloody skinnier than me these days, do you not eat?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, “of course I eat Tae, I just get distracted that’s all.”

It’s half true, he does get distracted, but pleasure leaked out of a lot of things in his life when Jungkook went, and food was one of them. He eats now, but only what he has to, not for pleasure any more, he hadn’t even realised.

“Going to see the grooms?” Yoongi asked him, sensing his discomfort with Taehyung's line of questioning.

Jimin nodded eagerly, “yes, if I can, don’t we have to wait for the ceremony?”

Yoongi shook his head, “nah, it’s all pretty casual, besides I was instructed to deliver you to them as soon as you arrived, so I’m already failing, come with me.”

Yoongi led him to an anteroom, knocking and waiting, and then they’re heading in. Both Namjoon and Seokjin have massive grins on their faces, they’re sitting together, hardly touching but with an air of two people deeply in love, it makes Jimin feel both at home and jealous at the same time.

They are thrilled to bits to see him, spending a good ten minutes catching up before a staff member interrupts, and tells them it’s nearly time. Jimin sees himself out, smiling, not really concentrating where he is going. He knows he needs to head for the main room, where the ceremony will be performed. He looks around for where his friends are sitting, reasoning that it’ll be nice to sit with them. They are bunched up together, sitting over two rows, and sitting at the end, next to an empty chair, is Jeon Jungkook.

Jimin’s heart nearly stops, it has been five bloody years, and just looking at Jungkook gives him a physical reaction. His heart speeds up, breaths shallow and his palms start to sweat. Jungkook looks both identical and so much older, but he is still breathtakingly handsome. Jimin walks on autopilot towards them, locking eyes with Jungkook on the way, neither of them wanting to look away. They have barely minutes before the ceremony is going to start, Jimin feels hands press him into the seat in front of Jungkook, finally making him tear his eyes off him. He can still feel Jungkook’s eyes on him though, and so he isn’t surprised when Jungkook’s voice sounds in his ear, his mouth close enough that Jimin can feel him softly breathing.

“Jimin, can we talk later?” Jungkook’s voice is as deep as he remembers, sending involuntary shivers down his spine. He turns and locks eyes with Jungkook once more, only having time to nod before the music swells, and signals that the wedding is going to begin.

Namjoon and Seokjin walk down the aisle together, tradition be damned, this wasn’t legal so they could do whatever the hell they liked. They are preceded by two little girls, dressed in matching dresses, baskets over their arms, scattering flower petals. The taller of the two is hissing instructions at the younger as they approach, but the younger loses control of herself just behind Jimin, squawking out a loud,

“daddy, look, I’m doing it,” as she stops in her tracks.

From behind him, Jimin hears Jungkook sigh just very slightly before whispering,

“well done baby, carry on, like we practised.”

The realisation hits Jimin like a fucking smack in the face, the girls are Jungkook’s daughters.

 

 

He doesn’t get another good look at them until the ceremony is complete, with tears from both Namjoon and Seokjin, Jimin wonders again why people have to be so prejudiced against same-sex relationships. Anyone that spent even a little bit of time with Namjoon and Seokjin couldn’t fail to notice how deeply and genuinely they loved each other, he wished fervently that his friends could have been legally married today.

The girls are called up to the top table by the grooms during the speeches, and Jimin gets his first real look at them side by side. Eunae is now six and Eunkyung must be four, they look similar in some ways, their facial expressions and mannerisms. Physically they couldn’t be any different, Eunae was always small, a little doll of a baby and nothing has changed there, she is still small boned and delicate yet feisty and outgoing, accepting her gift for helping with the wedding with disarming charm. Eunkyung is tall for her age, not far off the same height as her elder sister, built more sturdily but definitely shyer, hardly meeting Namjoon’s eyes when he hands her gift, her thank you is so soft it’s barely audible. They are sisters, but so very different and ice courses through Jimin’s veins, Jungkook told him in that letter he’d destroyed that he wasn’t Eunkyung's father, it had all seemed so bloody farfetched, so unlikely, that he’d instantly dismissed it as bollocks. Now the evidence was in front of his eyes, two little girls, chalk and cheese, had Jungkook really been telling the truth five years ago?

The party goes on well into the night, everyone wanting to celebrate, everyone being reluctant to leave. Jungkook had said goodbye to Hyejin and the girls several hours ago now, letting them return home, to bed, but he stays on, dancing and having fun.  
Jimin feels very slightly out of it, cut off from the others, it’s hardly surprising really. It’s like he’s been transported back to the very first night he’d met Jungkook’s friends, when he’d barely known Jungkook at all. But now, of course, it’s very different, it’s a little over nine years since that first night, and he and Jungkook had known each other as deeply as two people could, they’ve now been apart longer than they were together, and it hurts. And after seeing Eunae and Eunkyung together, Jimin really needs to know the truth of their parentage.

Jungkook is in no fit state to talk seriously tonight, he’s drunk, not wildly so, but he’s giggly and silly, and despite his urgent question just before Namjoon and Seokjin took their vows, he’s not approached Jimin.

Just before 3 am, Jimin decides it’s time for him to go, the familiar fatigue settling in. He makes his way around his friends, saying goodbye, for now, promising to reinstate their numbers, to make the effort to stay in touch, to see them again, Jungkook is last.

Jimin approaches him with caution, not wanting to make a scene but needing to do this,

“Jungkook?” he starts, “I’m heading off now.”

Jungkook just looks at him for a second, something passes across his face and he briefly looks totally sober, he nods,

“ok,” he tells Jimin softly, “when are you heading home?”

“Not for a couple of days,” Jimin tells him, “going to spend a bit of time with my parents.”

Jungkook nods again, ducking his head down before looking at Jimin again, “do you think we could talk before you go?” he asks Jimin.

Jimin nods, “ok,” he tells Jungkook.

“Do you want to come to my house? Tomorrow?” Jungkook asks, “Hyejin will be taking the girls to visit her parents so we can have a bit of time.”

“Yeah,” Jimin tells him, “you still at the same address?”

Jungkook shook his head, “needed a bigger place when, well, you know,” he trails off awkwardly.

“Of course,” Jimin agrees quickly, “umm, text me the address in the morning or something? And we’ll sort out when” he makes a move, like he’s going to walk away, but Jungkook stops him.

“Umm I, sort of…umm, don’t have your number anymore,” he stumbles out awkwardly.

Jimin pauses, flushing slightly at his own stupidity, “oh yeah,” he reaches for his phone, “what’s your number?” he asks Jungkook, inputting it as Jungkook told him. He sent a quick text to Jungkook, so he’d have Jimin’s number too before smiling at him, and practically running away.

 

 

Jungkook texts early the next morning, giving Jimin his new address, suggesting 11 am, and Jimin finds himself agreeing. He showers and dresses carefully, fussing a little too much over his appearance, butterflies flittering annoyingly around in his stomach. Fucking ridiculous he growls at himself, even as he spends a bit too long on his makeup, trying to both make himself look extra sexy as well as if he was barefaced, he’s had plenty of practice and does a damn fine job.

He arrives at the house slightly before 11 am, his car attracting attention as he drives into the neighbourhood. It’s an average neighbourhood, it’s not posh, but it’s a good solid and safe place to raise a family.

Jungkook opens the door, pausing to peer over Jimin’s shoulder at the car, raising his eyebrows in question,

“hire?” he asks.

Jimin shakes his head, “mine, custom,” Jimin tells him softly.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, obviously torn between inviting Jimin in and wanting to get a closer look.

Jimin can’t help but grin, Jungkook’s lust for the car is painfully obvious,

“want to have a look?” he asks.

Jungkook practically pushes him out of the way in his excitement, “hell yes,” he agrees grinning widely.

Jimin just smirked and handed Jungkook the keys. He took them almost reverently,

“seriously?” he asked.

Jimin nodded, “you’re not driving it though,” he told Jungkook mock-sternly.

 

Jungkook slides into the driver’s seat, where Jimin was sitting just moments ago, placing the keys between his legs so his hands were free to hold the steering wheel. Jimin sits in the passenger seat, it’s weird, he’s never sat in any of the other seats in this car. He watches, amused as Jungkook lovingly strokes his hands over buttons and dials and the leather of the seats.

“Fuck, I think I’ve just died and gone to heaven,” he groaned softly, “how much did this set you back? It’s custom?” he asked.

“None of your damn business,” Jimin joked back, “yes, custom, had to wait for fucking ages for it, so be gentle with it.”

He isn’t being serious, anyone could see that Jungkook is treating this car with infinite care, it takes him a good fifteen minutes before he’s ready to get back out again.

He presses the button to lock the car, regretfully passing the keys back to Jimin, “damn it’s so nice,” he tells Jimin, with a hint of envy in his voice.

 

 

They walk back to the house together, entering Jungkook’s house was strange, not only because he’d never been here, but because this house was so very different from his apartment. Where his apartment is sleek, classy and expensive looking, Jungkook’s house is cosy, and messy and domestic. It is very clear that two little girls live here, toys litter the place, small shoes and clothes lie around, there are drawings they’ve done and random things that he has no idea about that pop into his line of vision. It looks like organised chaos but it’s also warm and homely and really quite wonderful.

Jungkook leads Jimin into the lounge, indicating for him to sit so they can chat, Hyejin is going to take the girls out shortly so they can properly talk but first, he gets to meet Jungkook’s daughters for the first time in five years. Eunae was just a year old the last time he saw her, and she knew him well back then, reaching for him when he visited, cuddling up with him, and she is frozen in his mind at that age, so when Hyejin ushers in the now six and four-year-old, they are all somewhat on edge.

Jungkook speaks first,

“girls, you remember daddy telling you about Uncle Jimin? He is the one who travels around the world, drawing beautiful pictures, like the one on your room Eunae?”

She looks closely at Jimin, assessing him with her dark eyes,

“Uncle Jimin?” she questions before turning to Jungkook, “he’s real?”

Jungkook barks out a surprised laugh, “yes sweetheart he’s real, of course he is, you’ve seen pictures of him with you when you were a baby.”

Eunae looks insulted by her father’s laughter, “daddy,” she admonishes, “it’s not funny, I thought Uncle Jimin was just a story,” she finishes her sentence quietly, softly, and Jungkook reaches for her, bringing her on to his lap, bringing her closer to Jimin.

She is, to put it bluntly, gorgeous. Her dark hair falls in loose curls down her back, almost to her waist, held back from her face by two small clips near her temples. She has Jungkook’s large chocolate brown eyes and his pink rosebud mouth. When she talks Jimin can see that she has lost her top two middle teeth and that her adult teeth are about halfway down, he doesn’t know if he is imagining it, but he can already see that she’s likely to inherit Jungkook’s slightly protruding bunny teeth too.

Jungkook has been murmuring to Eunae while Jimin has been studying her, reassuring her that Jimin wasn’t a story, that he has always been real. She is still confused though, and Jungkook doesn’t get it, asking her to explain, she huffs at him, exasperated, looking like a frustrated Hyejin,

“because daddy, I haven’t seen him with my very own eyes,” she explains.

Jimin can see that Jungkook is trying hard not to laugh again,

“but why would that make him not real?” he questioned.

She looked at him sorrowfully, “I did think that he was made up in your head,” she confessed, “like Popo.”

Understanding and mirth crossed Jungkook’s face,

“you thought Jimin was daddy’s imaginary friend?” he questioned, and Eunae nodded. She looks embarrassed though, and Jimin wants to reassure her, to reconnect with her.

“I’m a bit disappointed that I’m real now,” he pouts, making Eunae look at him.

“It would be super cool to be invisible, I could be really naughty,” he confided, making Eunae giggle.

“You are silly Uncle Jimin,” she told him.

He nodded seriously, “I know,” he sighed dramatically, “but everyone can see me, so they all know it’s me, being invisible would be better.”

Eunae looked at Jimin from her position on Jungkook’s lap,

“did you really draw the drawing in my bedroom?” she asked him.

Jimin checked with Jungkook, unsure what picture she was meaning, Jungkook nodded back, confirming,

“from when she was born.”

“Oh,” Jimin said, “yes, I drew that,” he told Eunae.

She wriggled towards Jimin, “then I’m glad you’re not invisible, or I wouldn’t be able to see my picture,” she told him, her logic both cute and flawless.

They chat for a few minutes longer, Eunae asking him a few more questions, and telling him about her drawings. Eunkyung stands to one side, she obviously wants to join in but, no matter how Jimin tries to draw her in she remains silent, nervously watching him instead.

Hyejin eventually gathers the girls, sending them to put on their shoes and assesses Jimin coolly. She has always mostly stayed out of the relationship between the men, but obviously feels compelled to speak now, while the three of them are alone, she fixes Jimin with a look,

“listen to him,” she tells Jimin urgently, quickly before the girls return, “he never lied.”

She can say no more, the girls are back, ready for their trip out to see their grandparents, and they and Hyejin leave, and then Jimin and Jungkook are alone.

 

 

The tension is palpable, Jimin is seriously on edge, waiting for what Jungkook is going to say.

“Eunkyung isn’t mine,” Jungkook starts with, “you got the letter when she was born?”

Jimin just nodded silently.

“Everything I said was the truth, Eunkyung’s father is Hyejin’s ex, he was her boyfriend before we got married, he continued to be her boyfriend until she found out she was pregnant with his child. Kind of ironic really huh? He stuck around when she had my child, but not when she had his.”

Jimin just looked at him, not really sure what to say, not really sure if he trusted Jungkook, not really sure if he trusted himself anymore, his silence was obviously freaking Jungkook out.

“Um, Jimin? Can I get you a drink or something? You look kind of pale.”

He felt kind of pale, he nodded, croaking out,

“water, please.”

Jungkook left him, returning shortly afterwards with a glass of water, placing it in Jimin’s hands, accidentally brushing Jimin’s hands with his own. Jimin jerked from the unexpected contact, he probably would have thrown the glass if Jungkook didn’t still have hold of it.

Jungkook was still eying him nervously as he slowly let go of the glass,

“are you ok?” he asked softly.

Jimin tried to smile, setting the glass down on the table, reaching for his bag. He popped out two of his painkillers, needing them to take the edge off right now,

“will be in a sec,” he told Jungkook, before adding, “is she really not yours?”

He knows this answer, the truth, is going to blow apart all of his carefully constructed walls, all of his beliefs about what happened five years ago, and it’s bloody terrifying. Because if it is true, if Eunkyung really isn’t his, then Jimin cut off the love of his life for no real reason. But things have changed in that time, both of them have changed, and there is probably no coming back from it anyway.

Jungkook shook his head sadly, “no, biologically Eunkyung is not my daughter. As far as everyone else is concerned she is, as far as I am concerned she is my daughter, I am and I will carry on raising her as my daughter, she is mine, but not biologically.”

There isn’t much Jimin can say to that apart from, “oh fuck.”

And he has to know, “you never slept with Hyejin again?”

Jungkook shook his head, “never,” he breathed, “her once and you, that is it.” He paused as he remembered something, “oh and Tae, you know, that one time.” he blushed prettily at the memory.

Jimin swallowed, “and since?” he croaked out.

Jungkook shook his head and Jimin cringed hard, thinking back to his own behaviour in the last 5 years. The early days after he and Jungkook had split up, so many seedy encounters, and even recently, people who flit into his life for a short time and a hard fuck, meaningless. He has slept with literally countless people, he couldn’t hope to guess how many, and Jungkook has been totally celibate, waiting for him? It’s almost too much to bear, because there it is, the bombshell that is probably more explosive than what he believed, Jungkook didn’t cheat, and has kept his faith in Jimin, and Jimin hasn’t. For the first time, he considers that it was never Jungkook that was the bad guy, it was him, he wasn’t the victim he’d imagined he was.

Deep, gut-wrenching sobs hit him hard, and he just wants to escape, to run away, to drink until this pain fucks back off to where it came from. But Jungkook won’t let him go, he holds him tight, soothing him, crushing him gently to his chest until the fight goes out of Jimin and he relents, still sobbing in Jungkook’s arms.

When Jimin’s sobs finally subside Jungkook pushes him just a little bit further,

“I never stopped loving you Jimin,” he all but whispers, “I will always be yours.”

And it is those words that finally snap the last bit of resistance in Jimin.

“Don’t,” he begs weakly, “just don’t, you don’t know me, don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t care,” Jungkook tells him urgently, willing Jimin to believe him.

Jimin looks at him, assesses him before replying, “you should.”

Jungkook shakes his head firmly, “I do know you,” he tells Jimin, “I know who you are.”

“You knew me,” Jimin tells him harshly.

“So then tell me,” Jungkook urges, “nothing you could say is going to push me away.”

Jimin barked out a dark laugh, “you have no idea what you are saying,” he bit at Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t back down, “tell me Min,” he asks, his tone soft.

Jimin could scream with frustration, spitting words at Jungkook with zero filter, laying himself bare,

“I let people fuck me,” he starts, “lots of people, fuck them too, then let them go.”

Jungkook blanches slightly but doesn’t speak, letting Jimin continue.

“I drink,” Jimin tells him, “and I…” he hesitates before the last point, because he doesn’t know exactly how to word it, in the end, he fishes out the blister pack from his bag again, “I take these, a lot.”

Jungkook nods, “yeah I figured some of that yesterday, the booze and the pills.”

Its Jimin’s turn to just stare.

“What about the rest?” Jungkook asks him quietly, “what about the man who draws so beautifully that he’s lauded around the world? What about the man who cares deeply for his friends and family? What about the man who loved me so much that he gave me the world? He’s still there Min, I see him.”

Jungkook pauses, looking deeply into Jimin’s eyes, into his soul.

“You are not your mistakes, you can stop, change, go back or better yet, go forward. You can get help Min, get clean and sober.”

Jimin is almost convinced, Jungkook speaks so passionately, but he speaks like its easy, and it isn’t. People expect things from him, so many things, and sometimes he just can’t cope.

He shakes his head, “it’s too late,” he tells Jungkook quietly, feeling broken.

Jungkook hitches a little painful breath, “don’t say that Min,” he begs.

Jimin just shrugs, embarrassed now that he’s told Jungkook so much, only two people know for sure the extent of his issues. Yoongi because he’s terrifyingly observant and Jackson because he’s the one to clear up behind Jimin.

“I should go,” he tells Jungkook.

Jungkook suddenly looks wild, “no, please, don’t, not like this. Stay. We can… watch a DVD or something? I’ll make lunch. Please Min,” he’s practically begging by the end and as much as he wants to say no, he’s always had a hard time refusing Jungkook once he unleashes his puppy dog eyes.

Jimin sighs heavily, feeling too exhausted by the crying and his confession to move, so he nods, startling only slightly when Jungkook leans forward and presses a gentle kiss into his hair.

They eat lunch and hang out for the rest of the afternoon, Jungkook steering an almost comatose Jimin into his bed just before the girls arrive home.

 

 

Jimin doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but when he wakes up it’s dark and his heart is racing, instantly on alert for danger, not recognising where he is. He is sweating and almost painfully thirsty. Once he’s established that the sleeping lump on the floor is Jungkook, that he’s at his house, he relaxes slightly, heading quietly out of the room to get some water, and pills.

He sits on the sofa, waiting for the tablets to take effect, wondering briefly if he could find Jungkook’s alcohol stash to help them work faster. He resists, not wanting to disgrace himself any further in front of Jungkook. It takes all his resolve to wait, head in hands for the pills to work their magic.

Jimin sat, waiting until Jungkook found him. He was exhausted despite having been asleep for hours, his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, he still felt like he hadn’t slept in months. Jungkook was next to him, one hand rubbing gently across Jimin’s back, soothing him, waiting it out with him. He was silent, not demanding answers, not judging, and Jimin didn’t feel worthy of such tender attention after the way he had treated him over the past few years. He heard the little voice before he spotted her, unsure in the doorway,

“Daddy?” she asked quietly.

“Baby, “Jungkook responded to Eunae quietly, “it’s very early, go back to bed.” His voice was gentle but firm but Eunae took no notice, she padded closer.

“Uncle Jimin?” she asked, moving closer, “why are you sad?”

Jimin hastily push at the tears that had started to spill down his face at the sight of Jungkook’s beautiful innocent daughter, he took a big wobbly breath before answering,

“I’m fine sweetie, really, you can go back to bed.”

She looked at him, unafraid of his tears, with eyes as wise as her fathers,

“did you have a bad dream?” she questioned him.

Jimin nearly giggled at the perfect innocence of her question, but it wasn’t too far from the truth, so he nodded, adding conspiratorially,

“but I feel a bit silly, grown-ups aren’t supposed to have bad dreams.”

She nodded back, as if she fully understood his predicament, before climbing up on his lap and winding her arms around his neck,

“It’s ok,” she told him, “sometimes I still get bad dreams even though I’m big, but daddy is really good at making them go away.”

Jimin hugged her back, cursing himself internally yet again for missing out on so many of these moments with Jungkook’s family.

“You have to tell him what your bad dream was about,” Eunae prompted Jimin, “so daddy can make it better.”

And Jimin’s mind goes horribly blank, it’s not like he and Jungkook haven’t been talking, it’s not like Jungkook doesn’t already know everything and the demons that are haunting him, but nothing that was in any way suitable for Eunae to hear. She watched his face, waiting for him to speak,

“I, umm…” he faltered.

“Daddy can’t fix it if you don’t tell him,” she wheedled, obviously parroting Jungkook after her own nightmares.

Jimin gulped, his eyes searching for inspiration before landing on the teddy bear she clutched in her arms.

“I…well I had a teddy, like yours, when I was younger,” he started, and Eunae listened, enraptured, waiting for him to continue. “I had a dream that I was on holiday, with my family, and me and my teddy were playing on the balcony of the hotel. We were up really high, and teddy was being really silly, climbing up on the railings when he shouldn’t be.” Jimin stopped and gulped, hoping he wasn’t going to scar Eunae for life, “teddy fell,” he told her, “and because we were so high up, he died.”

Eunae looked at him, her eyes huge and she gasped, “oh no,” she moaned out, “your poor teddy.” She squeezed her own bear close to her, rocking him in her arms, comforting him before her eyes popped up to Jungkook, waiting for him. He paused for a second, unsure what she was waiting for.

Eunae stared at him, “fix it, daddy,” she told Jungkook exasperatedly.

“Oh, right,” Jungkook agreed, barely able to look at Jimin through his mirth,

“Jimin, “he started gently, his hand still running up and down Jimin’s back, “it was just a bad dream, your teddy isn’t dead, teddies can’t die, but in your dream he was very naughty indeed, you must never be silly on balconies, accidents can happen, you must always be sensible when you are in high up places.”

Eunae’s thumb had sneaked into her mouth, and she’d started to look drowsy again, she was nodding along with Jungkook’s advice, her eyes falling closed when he finished speaking.

“Shall I carry you to bed baby?” he questioned when he’d finished speaking to Jimin.

Her eyes stayed closed but she shook her head, snuggling into Jimin’s chest,

“want Uncle Jimin to carry me,” she asked softly.

Jungkook looked the question at Jimin and he nodded his head, getting to his feet with Eunae in his arms. She was so much bigger than she’d been the first time he’d done this but no less precious. He followed Jungkook silently to Eunae’s room, laying her down in her bed, letting Jungkook tuck her in before they both pressed kisses to her forehead.

 

 

They walked back to Jungkook’s room together, both tired. Jungkook slid into his own bed on complete autopilot, leaving Jimin hovering, wondering what to do. Wordlessly Jungkook lifted the duvet up, and shuffled over, making room for Jimin and then Jimin didn’t hesitate, climbing into bed with Jungkook, curling around him as if they’d never been apart, letting Jungkook’s slow even breaths and strong arms carry him away back into sleep.

 

When he wakes again the house is silent, save for Jungkook's even breathing next to him. To start with, he assumes that Jungkook is asleep but when he starts to shift he can see that he’s fully awake, and has been cradling Jimin in his sleep with one arm while doing something on his phone with the other. Jungkook eyes him carefully,

“morning,” he starts.

Jimin blinks at him, mind racing, so many feelings competing for attention he can hardly decide which is the most urgent,

“morning,” he croaks back.

“You doing ok?” Jungkook asks him softly.

Jimin thinks that the answer is a tentative yes, until he shuffles a bit more and pain shoots up his spine, making him gasp, face contorting, and he can only groan.

Jungkook stiffens, untangling himself gently from Jimin and climbing out of bed, leaving Jimin, before returning.

“Can you sit up?” he asks Jimin.

Jimin nods slightly, inching himself up the pillows, sweat beading on his brow from the effort of holding in the screams. Jungkook is hovering by his side, pills in one hand, water in the other, and if the pain in his back wasn’t so bad, Jimin would probably be mortified.

He takes the pills wordlessly, closing his eyes, waiting for them, not sure if Jungkook is still there or if he has left. He should have known better. He feels the bed shift slightly after a minute, Jungkook climbing back in, moving slowly so he didn’t jostle Jimin, and then there is a hand on his, fingers lacing between his, holding on, grounding him.

It is immensely comforting and Jimin's breathing eases, it takes him a few more minutes before he can open his eyes again but when he does, Jungkook is there, waiting patiently,

“thank you,” Jimin tells him quietly.

Jungkook's face looks worried, “fuck, Min,” he all but groans out, “what happened?”

Jimin shrugged, “probably slept awkwardly or something,” he started before correcting himself, “you know, twisted myself weirdly, no big deal.”

“No big deal?” Jungkook gasped, “you looked like you were in agony.”

Jimin's smile was sad, waking up in pain, living his days out in pain, it wasn’t new to him, “it’s nothing, really,” he told Jungkook.

Jungkook squeezed the hand he was still holding, “you need to go to a doctor or something.”

Jimin laughed genuinely then, “no way, no more. Jackson makes me go enough as it is.”

Jungkook looked at him, “Jackson?” he questioned, sounding just very slightly jealous.

Jimin nodded, “yeah, he’s my…” pausing, trying to find the right word.

“Boyfriend?” Jungkook finished softly.

“God no,” Jimin laughed again, “he’s relentlessly straight, he’s my assistant I guess? But more than that, he organises my entire life, I’d be lost without him.”

“Why does he send you to the doctors all the time?” Jungkook questioned.

Jimin winced, “he knows, about everything,” Jimin gestured vaguely, “and I guess he doesn’t want me to croak it early.”

Jungkook looked encouraged, “so you’re already seeing someone? About the pills and stuff?”

Jimin looked shifty, “sort of,” he hedged.

Because yes he sees the doctor that Jackson sends him to, and he gets regularly checked out, making sure he’s healthy. But he lies, he lies to the doctor about how much he drinks, the doctor doesn’t know about the pills and obviously, he lies about how many sexual partners he has and that they’re men. But he knows that Jackson insists that the doctors monitor every aspect of Jimin’s health, including covering stuff that he lies about, so he is reasonably confident that he’s as healthy as he can be. There is another, much shadier doctor that prescribes the pills. 

Jungkook isn’t stupid, “reckon you should see someone else?” he asks.

Jimin shrugs again, unable to really answer. Of course he should, he knows that drinking and taking pills and sleeping with whoever wants him is a lifestyle that will probably bite him in the ass one day, but it’s hard, too hard to change.

Jungkook seems to sense he’s pushed Jimin far enough, for now, he gives his hand one more squeeze before he lets it go, adding softly,

“I’ll help, if you want me to.”

Jimin just nods, because as nice as it would be to go back to the way things were, that will never happen. Jungkook cannot make Jimin his priority, he has responsibilities, a wife, and two little girls. 

Jimin watches as Jungkook gathers clothes, clearly preparing for a shower and his heart contracts almost too painfully, this is the man he let go, he cannot rely on Jungkook to save him, he made the choice to push him away and now he has to live with the consequences.

He dresses quickly while Jungkook is in the shower, stealthily gathering his few possessions, slipping out of the door and into his car, leaving Jungkook to the life he has built for himself. As he drives back to his parents, Jimin has to constantly brush tears off his face, tears that are leaking constantly from his eyes, mourning again for what happened, for losing Jungkook. As much as he wants to dive back in, to love Jungkook as fiercely as he did, he knows that would be nothing more than selfish. So he resolves to slip away again, to let Jungkook be, to let him live his simple and uncomplicated life, to not drag him down too.

He had, apparently, forgotten what a stubborn bastard Jungkook could be.

Before he’s even pulled into his parent’s driveway, his phone is buzzing,

 

From: Kook

“You left.”  
“You didn’t say goodbye.”  
“Fuck Min, I’m sorry if I was too hard on you.”  
“Add these numbers?”

 

Jungkook has linked him two more contact numbers, for Taehyung and for Hoseok, and he added them, completing his reinstatement of his Busan friends, making him smile again, still sat in his car on his parent’s driveway.

He sends both numbers a quick text, just a simple, “hey, it’s Jimin,” giving them his number too and then, taking a deep breath, texts Jungkook back.

 

From: Me

“Added. You weren’t too hard, I’m just dealing with some stuff.”

 

His phone is suddenly alive, messages coming in from Hoseok and Taehyung and Jungkook almost simultaneously. It takes him back and he grips his phone, not even reading the messages, not needing to know what they likely contained. Jungkook’s would be gentle, patient and kind, Hoseok’s would be enthusiastic and friendly, Taehyung’s would be overboard and dramatic, and he loved them all for it.

 

 

He spent the rest of the day with his parents, feeling guilty for having abandoned them yesterday, intending to only be at Jungkook’s for a couple of hours. His mum eyes him knowingly, a little too knowingly, making him blush, and making him deny that he and Jungkook were anything other than very tentative friends right now. It’s late on, after tea, that he actually checks his phone. He’s been added to a group and there has been a lot of chatter going on in his absence. He scrolls through quickly, getting the gist of the conversation, and it makes him smile. While he has been spending time with his parents, plans have been made for a night out, tonight, and his lack of responses has been noticed, and discussed, his friends worrying for him, trying to decide if someone should just turn up and collect him. Grinning he adds his first message,

 

Artist Min

“Count me in.”

 

He watches as the chat explodes again, messages appearing more quickly than he can read them, but the gist of them is all the same, excitement.

He doesn’t add any more messages, doesn’t need to, everything he needs to know is asked and answered in front of his eyes. He doesn’t have long, only about an hour until everyone is meeting, so he goes and showers, dithering over what to wear again, it was so much easier when he was younger, and when he was in search of meaningless encounters, but what is he supposed to wear out now? He changes in and out of things, huffing at himself in frustration at his own indecisiveness. In the end, he settles for jeans and a t-shirt, snorting at his lack of imagination, discounting the fact that both of the articles of clothing he’s chosen are designer, and fitted perfectly.

 

There are new faces out tonight, something he doesn’t expect when he walks in, making him almost instinctively shrink into himself. Not that it’d be obvious from the outside, he’s used to putting on a show for people, for acting confident and open and friendly, but inside he’s nervous and on edge and glad he’s brought the pills. He’s tempted to take a couple now, take the edge off, make this easier. But Jungkook is here and Jungkook is watching and it’d be nice to at least try to stay off them tonight.

Hoseok has brought a couple of work friends with him, and they are pretty similar personality wise to him, friendly and loud and relentlessly cheerful, and it doesn’t take long for them to hit the dancefloor, Hoseok begging Jimin to join them, and he will, in a bit. First, he has to meet the person that Yoongi had brought, because this is someone that he has heard a lot about, but has yet to meet, this has to be Jongdae, Yoongi’s boyfriend of almost a year now. 

They’re not all over each other, their affection towards each other is gentle and subtle but unmissable and for some reason it makes Jimin feel calm and settled. He hugs Yoongi, clinging on to him more than his own boyfriend does, but Jongdae seems unfazed, doesn’t seem like the jealous type. He is giving off the aura of someone older, confident and smart, he seems utterly perfect for Yoongi and so Jimin is determined that this first meeting will go well, he reluctantly unwinds himself from Yoongi’s steadying embrace, reaching his hand out to shake Jongdae’s.

“Hey,” he starts, “I’m Jimin,” nice and simple to start.

Jongdae takes his hand, shaking it back, clasping Jimin’s hand in his warm firm grasp, “I’d guessed,” he joked, “I’m Jongdae.”

“I’d guessed that too,” Jimin retorted back, giving Jongdae a cheeky grin.

He sits on Yoongi’s other side, leaning over him to chat to Jongdae, getting to know him. He actually already feels like he knows him, Yoongi talks about him a lot, and Jimin gets why. Jongdae is an open book, happy to share all sorts of random thoughts and silly jokes and he’s so damn sweet that Jimin is sort of tempted to climb into his lap for cuddles.

He manages to resist, recognising that he’s probably monopolised Yoongi’s boyfriend for long enough, he heads for the dancefloor to find the others. Hoseok, his friends, Taehyung and Jungkook are all bouncing around like the last 10 years haven’t happened, like they were all still teenagers and for the first time in a very long time, Jimin lets go too. He dances like he hasn’t permitted himself to in Seoul, he dances like an idiotic kid, forgetting that he is Park Jimin, artist, a man with influence and weighed down with expectations and limitations, he doesn’t want to stop. He dances alone when the others call time out for a drink, he dances with whoever crosses his path, he dances until the night winds down and the club is getting ready to shut and, when he and the others walk out, he crashes harder than he’s done in a very long time.

 

From dancing and being on a total high, once they are out of the club, Jimin can barely walk, all of a sudden he’s shaking, nauseous and on the verge of a panic attack. Most of the others have headed off, but Yoongi and Jungkook are there, along with a very concerned Jongdae. Since spilling all of his secrets to Jungkook, Jongdae is the only one not to know about Jimin’s current predilections, and he’s obviously worried. As Jimin slumps to the pavement, head between his knees, trying to remember how to breathe, he can hear Jongdae’s panicked tone,

“fuck, what’s wrong with him, has he taken something?”

If Jimin was in any fit state to respond he probably would have laughed, more like what he hasn’t taken. Because as easy as it was to get hooked on the pills, coming off them is a thousand times harder, the withdrawal when he leaves it too long is awful, and he recognises the symptoms, thankful that he’s got them handy. He takes a slow shaky breath in, mumbling,

“water, please.”

He can’t even look up to see if anyone has heard him, but they have, Yoongi sending Jongdae off to get some for Jimin, and then his two friends are crouching by his side, one of them is slowly rubbing his back, the other is holding his hand, and there both murmuring gently to him, telling him to breathe, that he’s ok, that they are there. It’s good, but nothing is going to help until he can take the fucking pills. He tries to reach for his back pocket where they are, cursing himself again for not being able to take them dry, holding the blister pack in his trembling hand, trying not to crush the life out of it.

Jongdae seems to take forever to come back, the cramps in Jimin’s stomach are worsening and his mouth starts to water unpleasantly, he knows he’s getting closer to vomiting, he really needs Jongdae to hurry the fuck up.

Thankfully, just before his stomach starts to properly lurch, a bottle is pressed into one hand, and someone is removing the pill packet from his other hand, he can hear the package crinkling as the pills are popped out and posted between his lips, he holds his head up long enough to swallow them, hanging it back between his knees for now.

Jongdae is still fretting somewhere above him,

“shit, what have you given him? Should you be giving him anything else if he’s having some sort of reaction? Should we get him to the hospital?”

This time Yoongi answers him straight, “just painkillers Dae, calm down, he’ll be ok in a minute, you’ll see.”

It takes a very long twenty minutes for Jimin to feel well enough to lift his head up, although the mortification of being seen in such a shit state could possibly have kept him there permanently if his ass wasn’t getting uncomfortable from sitting on the hard ground for so long. He stretches his limbs cautiously, testing that they were all doing ok before he got back up, helped on either side by Jungkook and Yoongi.

 

 

He persuades Yoongi and Jongdae to leave shortly afterwards, not wanting to face questions from Yoongi’s boyfriend, letting Jungkook walk him home, not that anything could have persuaded Jungkook to leave him right now anyway.

He’s quiet for a bit, obviously brooding, until Jimin can bear the silence no longer,

“sorry Kook,” he tells him quietly.

Jungkook lets out a big breath, “what the fuck happened?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Withdrawal,” Jimin answered simply, “I wanted to be clean for one fucking night,” his own voice hitches at that, upset that he’d gotten himself in so deep that even one night without the chemical boost was impossible.

“Oh Min,” Jungkook sighed, “I’m sorry.”

Jimin shrugged sadly, “it’s not your fault, its mine, just dumb to think I could just stop and everything would be ok, nothing is ok is it?”

Jungkook makes a little noise, Jimin can’t quite work it out, until Jungkook stops dead, and properly bursts into tears.

Jimin frantically rewinds the short conversation in his head, trying to work out what’s triggered Jungkook so hard. He can think of nothing and, in the deserted street, under a barely adequate streetlight, he hugs Jungkook, pressing soothing strokes down his back, lost for words for now. 

Jungkook cries like he’s been holding it in for years, which even in his still fragile state, Jimin can recognise that he probably has. All he can do it wait it out, wishing he could do more. When Jungkook’s sobs finally slow, Jimin wants to help put him back together,

“Kook?” he starts gently.

He just gets a frustrated little huff and one last sob out of Jungkook before he takes a breath in,

“yeah,” he replies, his voice hoarse from crying.

“Sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s my fault,” Jungkook tells him, voice so quiet Jimin barely caught his words.

Jimin scoffs, “no it isn’t,” he tells him firmly.

Jungkook twists away from Jimin, frustration and almost anger coursing over his tearstained face, he glares at Jimin,

“of course it’s my fucking fault,” he spits, “everything is, you would be ok if it wasn’t for me.”

Jimin is taken aback by the vitriol, as well as confused, 

“Kook, what?” he starts, trying to calm Jungkook down.

It doesn’t work, Jungkook is pacing back and forwards, yanking at his own hair, looking like he’s at the start of his own epic meltdown.

“Just stay away from me Jimin, I’ve done nothing but fuck up your life, and I’m sorry, I’m really just so fucking sorry.”

All of the fight goes out of Jungkook all of a sudden, and he stands away from Jimin, hunched in on himself.

“That is utter bullshit,” Jimin spits back at him, making Jungkook look at him, “I was the one who fucked up, I pushed you away, didn’t listen to you, blamed you. I’m not a fucking saint in this scenario, I chose to go out, to get drunk and high and fuck everyone who’ll have me. That’s all on me Jungkook, not you.”

Jimin’s breathing has sped up, angrily speaking ideas to Jungkook that he’s barely formulated in his head, but it’s true, it’s all true.

“I hurt you,” Jungkook tells him softly, “cheated on you, let you walk away.”

Jimin nodded, “you cheated on me once, and you owned up and stepped up, and Eunae is fucking amazing,” he told Jungkook, voice softening at the end, thinking of Jungkook’s daughter.

“But Eunkyung?” Jungkook asked sadly.

Jimin groaned, “that was my fault, you tried to tell me, I didn’t listen.”

“I should have made you listen,” Jungkook told him.

Jimin nodded, “yeah, maybe, and maybe I should have fucking listened.”

“We’re both fucking idiots then?” Jungkook asked, a tiny smile starting on his face.

Jimin sighed heavily, then let Jungkook’s little grin infect him too, “yeah, both total fucking idiots,” he conceded.

Jungkook walked back closer to Jimin, holding his arms out for Jimin, and Jimin went to him. For a minute they just hugged and for the first time in a long time, Jimin felt properly at peace, it may have been a shit time and place to have this conversation but it was well overdue and it feels like they might have actually started to repair the damage between them.

 

He isn’t sure who moved first, not that it really mattered, but one minute they were hugging, and the next they were kissing. It was gentle to start with, tentative, feeling each other out after such a long time apart. But it’s achingly wonderfully familiar territory for them both, and before too long they are kissing passionately on the street, holding each other tight, pouring all of their frustrations into the moment.

Jungkook backs Jimin up against a wall, tongue licking into his mouth, little grunts of desire escaping between kisses. Jimin grabbed Jungkook by his ass, pulling him in so he was pressed fully onto him. And holy fuck he felt good, and in a sudden moment of clarity, Jimin realises this is what he’s been searching for, in all of his encounters, and he was never going to find it in anyone else, because Jungkook was unique, one of a kind, his.

They’re kissing hard, holding each other, Jungkook rutting his hips against Jimin’s, both of them solid in their jeans, Jungkook pauses only briefly, moaning out in Jimin’s ear,

“oh holy Jesus, fucking fuck, you feel so good.”

Jimin can only moan into Jungkook’s mouth in response, pressing his hips harder into Jungkook’s thrusting ones, feeling far too on edge considering they were just kissing.

Apparently, he’s not the only one, Jungkook suddenly stops kissing him, his hips falter and his face scrunches up into what looks like a silent scream as he stops breathing entirely. Jimin can feel Jungkook’s stomach muscles contracting and there is no doubt in his mind what is happening, Jungkook is coming in his pants, right there, and he can hardly hold in his squeak of desire watching it happen.

When Jungkook starts breathing again he buries his face in Jimin’s neck, mumbling against his skin,

“well, that was fucking embarrassingly quick.”

Jimin giggled just very slightly, “I think you mean fucking hot,” he told him, rotating his hips slightly, letting Jungkook feel how aroused he still was.

Jungkook grimaced slightly, moving the lower half of his body away,

“sorry,” he explained quietly, “feels fucking gross there now,” he indicated at his own crotch, and Jimin understood, despite his own now raging desire.

He made a little, disappointed noise, but Jungkook clearly had plans.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he told Jimin, grinning wickedly as he reached for Jimin’s buttons, “it’s been a while though, don’t expect much.”

Before Jimin could form any useful response, Jungkook had unfastened his jeans and slid his hand inside Jimin’s underwear, gripping his cock.

“Oh shit,” Jimin moaned out, fighting against his instinct to close his eyes, wanting to watch.

Jungkook tried to stroke him, but there wasn’t enough space in Jimin’s jeans for him to be able to move freely, so with the other hand, he started to push Jimin’s jeans down, just under his ass, pushing his boxers down too, leaving Jimin completely exposed to the night air.

He couldn’t decide if this was the worst or best idea Jungkook had ever had. The thought that they could be discovered at any moment was both terrifying and exhilarating. Jungkook let him go briefly, licking big wet paths up his hand, and when he gripped on again the extra slide felt fucking heavenly. Jungkook may have claimed it may be subpar but having his big hands back on his cock meant all too soon, Jimin was coming too, painting white stripes onto the pavement at their feet, panting hard, grabbing Jungkook in one last deep kiss as his orgasm waned.

They grinned at each other as Jimin pulled his trousers back up.

“I hope there are no cameras,” he giggled to Jimin.

Jimin just looked back, eyes wide, “now you think about cameras?” he asked incredulously, “I fucking hope not, I don’t need to be done for indecent exposure.”

Jungkook laughed, “or littering,” he added, looking at the still visible mess Jimin made on the ground.”

“Bastard,” Jimin giggled back, sliding his hand into Jungkook’s walking away from the incriminating evidence together.

 

 

Jimin sleeps well that night, better than he has done in a very long time, not counting times when he’s drunk himself unconscious or collapsed from overwork, he felt content and satiated, falling asleep looking forward to tomorrow.

 

 

Tomorrow is his last day back in Busan, the day after he is due to go back to Seoul, to carry on with drawings he has partially completed, to show his face again at the usual rounds of parties and events. Tomorrow though, the Busan boys are reuniting, back in the park when Namjoon proposed to Seokjin, to hang out, for Jimin to be off the radar for one more day. he isn’t stupid, the problems that gestated themselves in Seoul haven’t gone away, and he obviously cannot just go cold turkey from the pills, but for the first time in a very long time he has hope that things could be different, that he could get help, that he could get off them for good, give up the drink and the casual sex, and be the person he once was, but better.

 

 

Jimin is early to the park, first one there, and he takes the time to have a stroll around, enjoying the sunshine and freedom. It takes him a while to realise he is being watched, Jungkook stood casually, hands in his pockets, looking like a freaking model, smile on his face. Jimin’s heart hammers in his chest, he wants to run to Jungkook, leap into his arms, and hug him tightly. He holds himself back for a minute, before deciding why the fuck not. He grins as he runs and throws himself at Jungkook, clinging on around his neck, planting a kiss on his lips. He probably shouldn’t, someone could see them, but at that moment he doesn’t care, and it seems like Jungkook doesn’t either, kissing Jimin back, purposefully holding him up with his hands on Jimin’s ass.

It takes a non-too subtle throat clearing behind them for Jungkook to place Jimin back on the floor, a beaming Taehyung shakes his head,

“don’t stop on my account,” he tells them happily.

Jungkook just rolls his eyes, and Taehyung reaches for Jimin, cuddling him close,

“welcome back,” he tells Jimin softly, being unexpectedly quiet and tender for Taehyung.

Before they can even finish their hug they hear another voice, Yoongi this time,

“fucks sake Tae, put him down,” Yoongi jokes, going in for his own hug from Jimin.

“No Jongdae today?” Jimin questions.

“Later,” Yoongi tells him, “ot7 only for now,” he jokingly adds.

Jimin nodded, “I owe him an apology for last night, hope I didn’t scare him too bad.”

Yoongi looked at Jimin sadly, “scared all of us if you want the truth.”

Jimin looked down, ashamed again, “I know,” he told Yoongi quietly, “I’m going to do something about it when I get home.”

He hadn’t planned this, had no plan for how, but he knew that he needed to do this, and soon before it fucked his life up completely.

Yoongi grabbed at Jimin’s hand, “for real?” he asked him, the hope obvious in his voice.

Jimin looked at him, into the face of one of his oldest friends. Yoongi hadn’t judged him this whole time, hadn’t questioned anything, stood by him, heart open and ready for when Jimin needed him and there is a big lump in his throat seeing the expression on Yoongi’s face.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I can’t keep on like this.”

“Oh shit,” Yoongi gasped, pulling Jimin into a tight hug, “thank fuck, you can do this, I know you can, if there’s anything I can do to help, anything, let me know yeah?”

Jimin hugged him back, nodding into Yoongi’s shoulder, not able to stem the little grateful tears from flowing down his face. Yoongi tried to let him go but Jimin wasn’t ready, holding on to him tighter, pressing his face even deeper into Yoongi's neck. And Yoongi understood, hugging him back until Jimin was ready to let go.

While he was hugging Yoongi the others had arrived, holding muted conversations so as not to disturb Jimin and Yoongi, recognising that it was something important. With Yoongi and Jungkook now knowing the whole sordid truth, Jimin feels a bit weird keeping it from the others, these guys were his friends, and they deserved honesty and openness and a big fucking apology. Once the initial chatter and excitement died down, Jimin cleared his throat, it was now or never.

“Guys,” he started, waiting for a minute, nervous. 

Jungkook eyed him, recognising something serious was about to go down he shuffled closer to Jimin, pressing himself into Jimin’s side, giving him the strength to carry on.

“I just wanted to say something, if that’s ok?”

Taehyung squeaked, “you and Kook are getting back together?” he guessed, grinning.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other awkwardly, “ahh, no, well I don’t think so, maybe one day, not yet,” Jimin rambled, before adding, “it’s a bit heavier than that.”

Taehyung slumped back down, “sorry,” he apologised quietly.

“Things haven’t been the best for me for the past few years,” Jimin started, “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, and got a few problems I need to deal with.”

He paused, already exhausted, pulling the tablets out of his pocket, and holding them up.

“I’m addicted to these, haven’t stopped taking them since I was attacked,” he blurts out, “and I drink too much, I need it,” he adds softly.

He swallows hard before adding the worst bit, “and I sleep around,” he all but mumbles, “probably not helped by the drink and pills but, yeah,” he finishes, head bowed, unable to look at anyone.

For a long second, there is silence before Taehyung speaks softly,

“you’re still our Jimin though.”

He jerks his head up, looking at Taehyung, checking he’s not being sarcastic, or silly. All he sees on Taehyung's face is naked honesty, he isn’t judging either. Jimin dares to look at the others, at Seokjin and Hoseok, and finally Namjoon. All of them are looking back at him with a mix of concern and shock on their faces, there is no disgust or hate, and he realises he should have trusted them more.

“I’m sorry I disappeared on you all, I just didn’t know what else to do,” he tells them, voice cracking, “I wish I could go back and change things but I can’t, but I’m going to get help once I get back to Seoul.”

His voice is soft but determined when he finishes, his eyes bright with yet more tears, and then he’s tackled into a massive hug, six other men vie to hold him to soothe him to offer him support and encouragement and its overwhelming. The tears burst out of him, breathe hitching painfully but he doesn’t feel sad, he feels hope, he can do this. He is in the middle of the greatest group he could have hoped for and he just knows that, as much as they can, they will be there for him, cheering him on, propping him up, and he wishes he didn’t have to leave ever.

 

 

But all too soon he has no choice, packing his car again slowly, trying to delay the inevitable. Being back home is soothing and comforting but his easels and his Seoul life are calling. And then he’s driving back, to the only life he knows now, to the celebrity and the big empty flat, and the isolation. He’s made promises in front of his friends that he’s going to get help, to tackle his issues but the further he gets away from Busan the more scared he gets. If he goes to rehab then his coping mechanisms will be removed, it’s going to leave him alone and vulnerable. He’s made promises but he honestly doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to follow them through.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to everyone who is reading along, and commenting.  
> I have 4 more Jimin POV chapters to go, and 1 Jungkook POV and I'm starting to wonder. there have been quite a few comments questioning the motivations behind some of his actions, so is there anything that you want to understand from his point of view?  
> I have a fair few things planned, including just what exactly happened in that train station bathroom that nearly got them arrested way back at the beginning, but I don't want to miss anything important.  
> So if there is any part that you'd like to hear from Jungkooks point of view, from the very beginning, let me know in the comments and I'll do my very best to write it into part 11.


End file.
